


All Because of A Damn Driver's License

by gopherbroke



Category: Actor RPF, Adam Driver - Fandom, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Adam Driver - Freeform, Eventual Smut, F/M, First Dates, First Time, Fluff and Smut, bookstore heaven, come on who doesn't want to date adam driver, depiction of assualt, living in brooklyn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-05-02 21:45:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14554185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gopherbroke/pseuds/gopherbroke
Summary: You have always loved working in your Grandfather's bookstore and one day a rather gruff customer nearly ruins your day. When you realize later that it was none other than Adam Driver, your life begins down a path that you would have never predicted. Can you break through the walls he has so carefully constructed around himself? Can you let him into your own wary heart?Just a little tale of make believe and if only. Wouldn't we all like to be whisked away by tall, brooding men? Come and let your imagination run wild for a spell and see what it would be like.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back! Still have plans to finish my Benedict Cumberbatch date. I just fell off the face of the planet for a few years. Babies will do that to you. In fact, BC has a new chapter that will be up soooon. But in the meantime, my heart currently belongs to Adam Driver. Blame it on Kylo Ren, I suppose. This is more than a quickie and I have a least 12-15 chapters planned. Over half of it is written and I'm powering through, dang it. Rated Explicit for a freaking reason, although it won't be until later chapters. I'm going realistic with my fantasy this time. LMAO. 
> 
> This story wouldn't exist if it weren't for KyloTrashForever. Check out her Reylo fic called Wildfire.  
> And my bestie Buggirl1964! She inspires me no matter what I do. 
> 
> Let me know what you think! See you after!

 

 

There was always something intensely satisfying about sliding a book back into its spot on the shelf. You run your fingers down the spines of the next row, nudging one aside gently to push a new arrival into its new home amongst the non fictions. These ones were all about space and you smile as you glance over the titles. Working in your Grandfather’s book shop has always been a part of you; the rows and towering shelves crammed full of pages of knowledge and adventure were the very structure that your heart called home.

It was practically the only place you would consider to be home.

Your parents were wanderers, never staying in one place long enough for you to make friends, always searching for the next location to travel and document. It had been an exciting life at first, always experiencing people and places that most others only realize exist from paper or the pixels on their screens. But as you grew, so did a place in your heart that you could only label as loneliness. There came a summer, after you had hiked the dunes of the Sahara on a camelback, that you came to visit your grandfather for the season.

That was seven summers ago and you still had yet to leave. Your parents would send word or the occasional emails and video chats, but it was an unspoken and mutual agreement that you were better off tucked in the upstairs loft of an ancient bookstore in Brooklyn. It wasn’t as if your Grandfather couldn’t use the help, his body couldn’t nearly scale the ladders and shelves with the same ease as your own.

You pick up a new stack of books and head back further into the shop, your feet automatically finding the easiest path through the tight corridors from memory. It was shop that overwhelmed most guests as they were greeted with a towering labyrinth of spines and pages as soon as they passed through the threshold. You tried to keep the front of the shop as uncluttered as you could mange, but as soon as one would pass through the first hallway, there were nearly books in every direction. And you knew them all.

This fortress of books was your home; your castle.

You slide a few more new arrivals into their new homes, sending a fond caress down each spine before you reach a narrow black case near the back of the shop. You pull on a handle and the shelves widen slightly forward, leaving you with a narrow ladder that you quickly shimmy up. You flip open the hidden latch on the ceiling and open the trapdoor, pulling yourself up and into the small space.

If the store was your castle, this was your tower.

A big window took up the entirety of the space to your left, letting in the midday sun. Filling the space was giant nest of pillows and cushions and a few blankets that looked as if they were made of clouds or fur. Multi colored holiday lights in the shape of dripping icicles were strewn around the space, casting a soft warm light and bursts of color on the walls. They rested gently on all of the photos and treasures you had pinned of your journeys and travels, sending ripples of rainbows throughout your memories.

Old photos mixed with new ones and you could see your life in the walls around you. All the best places of the world were strewn about the first wall; Tibet in the hot summer, the glaciers in the Arctic, the crests of the Alps in Switzerland, were just a smattering of the places you had photographed. On the other wall, was all Brooklyn. Your own photos capturing your love of the neighborhoods were mixed with those taken of you and the first groups of friends you could call your own. Your high school years and graduation were all nestled amongst the trinkets you had collected over the years.

Your tower was bliss. Your Grandfather had shown it to you your first summer and made a big show of emptying it from its old boxes of papers and records so you could have a space of your own. You honestly spent more nights in here than in your actual room. You settle back on your nest, grabbing your current read from its shelf and a leftover muffin from your snack box. You had put an extra monitor in the corner that tapped into Grandfather’s basic security system so you could keep an eye for customers and you check it quickly before wiggling down deeper in your cushions and letting your mind slip away into the story on the pages.

Life was never better than it was at this moment.

But it was short lived.

There was sudden chorus of bells, the signal that the shop’s main front door was opened. You glance on the monitor and see a grainy image of a large bulk of a person squeezing through the entry.

“Hello?” You hear a deep voice ring out.

You shove your muffin and book back and take the back exit out of your tower, pushing aside a small door and crawling out into the upstairs closet. You quickly run down the main stairs to greet the new customer only to find the front of the store empty.

_No way. Where’d he go?_

You peer around a few tall stacks, looking for the broad mass you had glanced on the security footage, but only found empty aisles. You huff, whirling to head to the back of the store when you collide with what feels like a solid wall.

_The fuck? That wasn’t there a moment ago._

It nearly knocks the air from you as your body practically bounces back from the unyielding form and starts to fall backwards. There’s a sudden pressure around your arm as you are yanked forward again.

“Watch it.” The wall grumbles and you blink in confusion, glancing up into a pair of dark eyes.

He releases his fingers from where he had grabbed behind your elbow and takes a swift step back, as if your presence had suddenly offended him. You had yet to look away from his piercing gaze; there was just something about him.

_Stop staring._

He looked so familiar, as if you had seen him, dreamed of him in lifetimes past. He was tall, that much was a given and towered over your petite 5’4” frame. His shoulders were wide, just like you prefer them, with his long winter coat clearly tailored to enhance his frame. His hair was long, the nearly black strands curling softly to frame his face, which your eyes still had yet to leave. His face was one you shouldn’t forget, long and angular with a prominent nose and wide mouth, both features that sat asymmetrically with pale skin and a light smatter of beauty marks.

_Why does he look so familiar?_

He clears his throat, breaking both your thoughts and scrutiny of his person and you stutter slightly, remembering yourself.

“Can I help you, sir?” You ask, ignoring the random squeak in your voice.

He jabs a long finger in your direction and scowls, his eyebrows furrowing together. “You work here?” His tone is disbelieving and you frown.

“I do. Is there anything I can help you find?” You counter defensively.

“As if anyone could find anything in this mess.” He scoffs to himself, glancing around at the over laden stacks. “I mean, clearly this place wouldn’t pass any fire inspection.” He gestures widely and your face sets into a hard line.

“Are you here to inspect us?” Your fingers curl into your palms in annoyance.

“No.” He rolls his eyes. “I’m looking for a book.”

“I don’t think we have any of those here.” Your response is automatic, your face is deadpan, and a small smirk tugs the corner of his full lips. He quickly corrects it.

“Here. I’m looking for this.” He thrusts a scrap of paper at you and you take it, unfurling the thumb worn edges. _Designs for the Printed Age – Leo Lionni._

_Sounds hipster._

But then again, most of Brooklyn was nowadays, God forbid you say it out loud to anyone.

“Let me check for you. Wait here if you like.” You took off to the main counter and pulled up your own inventory system. Grandfather didn’t even have one before you arrived and you had spent months cataloging and perfecting it. It made things much easier and even Grandfather quickly learned its basics.

You type his book into the search and your eyebrows rise as you get a result. There was one copy in the Rares room.

“Well?” The man has followed you to the front and was shuffling impatiently. “Can you help me or not?”

_I am helping you, you miserable sod._

“We actually do have a copy.” You try not to smirk as the man’s eyebrows raise in surprise. “However it is in our rare inventory. There’s a bit of a procedure I have to follow in order to access it, if you are willing.”

“Sure. Fine.” He grumbles and you take note of the books location again before heading to the front door. You flip the ‘We’ll be back in 10’ sign around and quickly lock the door.

“License please.” You hold out your hand and he stares at it.

“Why?”

“Do you want to look at the book or not? I told you it was a procedure.”

He huffs loudly, ripping into his pocket and slamming the card in your palm, all the while muttering to himself. You roll your eyes at his dramatics, setting his license on the front counter without a second look and then head to the back of the store.

“Follow me.” You call back and you hear his heavy feet tread behind you. You wind through a few paths into the heart of the store until you reach another trick bookshelf. You wait for him to catch up, wanting to surprise the man for some reason.

_Anything to wipe that permanent frown off his face._

He quickly catches up to where you stand in the back corner of the vintage room and looks at you expectantly, his bottom lip mulling underneath his teeth. His eyebrows were still pulled in a scowl as he glares at you. You sigh and pull the classic book on the low shelf that activates the door. It swings wide, leading to an empty space with a spiral stair. You look behind you, hoping to see his face and smile as you catch his wide eyes, his expression now only curious as he looks past you up the stairs.

You quickly climb to the top, pulling out your keys to unlock the deadbolt on the door. Miraculously, the man successfully manages to fit himself up the tiny narrow stairs and follows you into the Rare room as you step through the door. The Rare room has to be a favorite. It was perched high above the front of the store, with little hidden windows that let you look down into main entry. From downstairs, you would only be able to notice the unique architecture of the framing, but nobody ever believes there’s a whole room tucked away. The shelves in the Rare room were gently stacked, with every book getting its own unique space; a polar opposite from the rest of the store.

He seems eager to peruse the glass cases, reading the titles of your grandfather’s most valuable books. There were first editions, autographed copies, books that looked as if they belonged in the medieval times, historic newspapers. It was honestly quite a collection and Grandfather had taken quite a bit of insurance against the books in this room.

“Are all these books for sale?” He asked, his voice was soft, but inquisitive.

“Everything has a price.” You respond. “You just may not be able to pay for it.”

He snorts and turns his back to you to look through another shelf.  You roll your eyes again and reach to the high shelf where his book should be, coming about 5 inches shy.

_Dammit. Of all the times to be short._

There was a step stool, of course but that was all the way downstairs and you were not allowed to leave a customer alone in the Rares. You perch on your tip toes waving your other arm around for balance as you try again to reach the slender yellow spine.

_Not even close._

Suddenly there was a massive presence behind you and you feel him step close, his chest pushing slightly against your back as he reaches, following your arm up to the shelf.

_Well, hello Mr. Gorilla Limbs._

Your skin flushes with heat where your body connects against him and you find yourself surrounded by warm masculine scent, woodsy and clean and your cheeks tint with a blush as he envelops you. His hands are massive, over double your size and you gape for a second at the sheer width of his palm as it passes over yours. His arm extends past yours easily and his long fingers brush along the spines.

“That one.” You murmur as he sweeps across the pale yellow. He carefully pulls it from the shelf and steps back, leaving your body with an unexpected chill at the removal of his heat.

You turn to watch him flip the book over carefully. _Designs for the Printed Age_ was printed on the sleeve and he gingerly pulls the book out of its slip case and sets it on the table in the middle of the room. Despite his surly demeanor, he handles the book with care, cautiously moving through the pages.

“Is this what you were looking for?” You ask.

“Hmmm.” He barely gives you a response as he finishes turning through the pages. “How much?” He mumbles.

You thread your fingers to the last page, trying to ignore the jolt of electricity that shuddered through your body as his hand brushed against yours. There was a slip of paper in your grandfather’s hand tucked into the back of the book and you scan it carefully.

“1960 Edition, limited print. No wear or discoloration on book or slip cover. Last known auction sold for $900.” You read, glancing at the man who was carefully running his finger across the page of a geometric print. Grandfather had written a sale price on the paper of $500 and you fold it in half as you clear your throat. “I can let it go for $700.”

_There. Stuck it to him._

“Sold.” He said gruffly as he slid the book back into the slip case and stood, glancing at you expectantly. His eyes met yours and you realized they were not as dark as you had originally thought, but more the color of a lightly brewed tea, a dark toffee with flecks of gold, or the color of sand cooling in the shadows, away from the hot sun.

And there was something still inherently familiar about his face that you couldn’t quite place. You just know you’ve seen it before.

_But where._

You gesture for him to exit the Rares ahead of you so you can relock the door and you follow his dark form down the narrow stairs. You secure the bookcase back into place and meet him back up at the counter. The actual counter was elevated on a platform and gave you smidgen of extra height against his extraordinarily tall frame. You were now eye level with his neck, a pale smooth expanse that was dotted with another freckled constellation. There was a primal urge that flew through you to trace a bath between the dots with your tongue.

_I bet he tastes as good as he smells._

He clears his throat and you feel blood fill your cheeks as you blush. You pass over a pen and information form, mumbling about how it’s only because he bought a rare and he quickly fills it out, and pushes it back. He slaps his card on the counter and you run it, handing it back to him. You were now both trying to finish this up as soon as possible. He takes his receipt and signs it, stuffing his copy into his coat. His purchase is slipped into a bag and he is out the door before the words ‘Have a nice day’ could leave your mouth.

_What an emotionally draining experience._

That man had definitely piqued your curiosity; you knew his face and there was something about his bodily presence that had sparked something in you.

You have had a few meager crushes and group dates over the years since living in Brooklyn, but no one had really awakened that fire in you that you have always read about. Other than a few distasteful kisses, you really haven’t had the chance to explore that side of yourself. Most girls your age have had relationships, hookups, hell, even marriages and children for some over achievers at this point.

_So what was wrong with you? And why did you have to be so responsive to a random asshole?_

The man had made a whirlwind of your afternoon, storming in with the attitude of a wet cat, making you feel flushed with his scowls and aftershave. Angrily, you shove his papers in the desk and shake your head. At least Grandfather will be happy to hear about the sale of a Rare when he returned home tomorrow. He was currently gone to London to acquire a few new volumes and had left you in charge.

You finish shelving the rest of the new inventory and counted down the sales for the day. It was a slow day but with the big purchase he had made, it more than made up for it. You make sure to lock the front door and pull over the safety grate before heading upstairs. Dinner was a ham sandwich, which you ate in your tower, losing yourself in your current novel. You read, immersing yourself in the world of a dark prince and his weakness for love until your eyes grew heavy and the world faded away.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for following me into chapter 2! This story is only going to make you fall in love so keep bearing with me. This one is a short one, but definitely needed. 
> 
> Love you all, see you at the end!

Unsurprisingly, you wake up in your tower, nestled amongst the pile of pillows and sporting some serious bed head. You clean up and shower, putting on a black maxi dress that had shoulder cutouts and a deep V neckline. It was one of your comfiest dresses for any season and it paired well with almost anything. Today, you matched it with your favorite pair of Star Wars leggings, the ones that had The First Order ships and blaster streaks all over them

The first part of the day flies by, as the bell keeps chiming in with new guests, old guests, and curious bystanders. As the oldest book store this side of the Mississippi, there were often people who came in to explore the rooms and trenches. Stories boasted of trick bookcases and hidden rooms, which of course were correct, although not many people could find them. There was only one time when someone found your tower and was up there taking a nap when you went to close. It was frightening and you had removed the handle off the ceiling after that, hoping that no one would find it again.

You sat at the counter, clicking through the new releases and ordering the obvious choices while you nibbled on lunch, a hummus platter with some sliced apples. The bell chimed again and you glance over, nearly falling off your stool as you see his face saunter in again.

He raises an eyebrow at you.

“You’re back.” You straighten, pulling your dress into place as you shove your lunch aside.

“Obviously.” He states, brushing his hand through his thick mop of hair.

“Got another challenging one for me?” You quip, quirking your eyebrow at him and smiling.

_Jesus H Christ, are you flirting?_

“No.”

He stalks off into the store and you scramble off the counter platform to follow him.

“Is there something I can help you find?” You ask softly, your dress swishing around you as you try to keep up with his stride.

He stops suddenly and you trip to avoid slamming into the back of him, falling backwards and landing square on your ass.

He whirls around; his face pinched in irritation at first until he notices you sprawled on the floor beneath him. He glances at your leggings and his mouth quirks into a smile.

“Do you harass all your customers this thoroughly?” He offers you a hand to help you up, which you distinctly ignore as you pull yourself off and brush legions of invisible particles from your dress.

“Just the ones I don’t like.”

He snorts, turning on his heel and leaving. You give him a few minutes before trying to track him down again and find him looking at British History.

“Is this all you got?” He mutters. “Thousands of books threatening to bury me alive and only 5 options on the Brits?”

“Pick any of them up.” You cross your arms as he casts a scowl in your direction before grabbing a book on Henry the VIII. As soon as the book left the shelf, latch clicked and the whole bookcase slid aside, revealing another small room, about the size of a closet. There had to be at least 250 books stacked neatly.

“There’s the British History.” You chime as he stoops his head into the room.

“Does everything in this damn store need to have a gimmick?” He calls back, his fingers racing along the titles.

“If you don’t like the shop then why are you back?” You ask. He really was too large to easily fit in the Brit closet and it gave you a chance to check out what he looked like from the rear.

_It’s all good. Front. Back. Naked would be better._

“Why would I waste time going somewhere else when obviously every book in the world is hidden here somewhere.” He snarks.

“There’s always Amazon Prime. Not so gimmicky.”

“They are delivering with drones now. Definitely gimmicky.” He finally pulls out of the closet, carefully ducking his head and slides the bookcase back into place. “Besides, I was in the neighborhood.”

You study him as he walks back over slowly, the sway in his shoulders tugging on a memory you couldn’t place.

“Did you go to Rabbi Jenkin’s Hip Hop class?” You blurt.

_Dammit._

He lets out a sudden rush of air you thought it might be considered a laugh as he stared at you incredulously.

“Sorry. No. I don’t know any Rabbi Jenkins.” His lips quirk and his eyes lightened, crinkling a little.

_He was definitely laughing at you._

He paces a few steps, then stops, looking at the film and theatre section.

“Any gimmicks here?” he asks.

“One. And I’m not telling.”

“Ah. Of course not.” He sets down his pile of Brit books and folds his long lanky legs as he kneels down, inspecting the titles on the bottom shelf.

“Did you ever attend a potluck at the community center for BINGO night?”

“Is that also hosted by Rabbi Jenkins?” He asks straight-faced.

“No.” You scowl.

“Then no. I haven’t.” He pulls out a slim novel on the history of Julliard and adds it to his stack. “Any other fun questions?”

_It almost felt like a gentle tease over a sarcastic barb._

You thought quickly over any other public scenario in which you might have met him before. He was too old to have gone to school with you, and far too young to be part of Grandfather’s social circle. Maybe he was a grandson of a family member? Or maybe…

“Did you show up to my lecture at St. Ann’s?”

A flicker of surprise fell over his face. “You had a lecture? What about?”

“Nothing important. Just a gimmick.” You counter before turning to leave.

“No no, I’m interested.” He follows you now, picking up his books and trailing behind you down the hallway of Murder Mysteries.

You roll your eyes. “I don’t know if you are.”

“You just look so young to have had anything worth lecturing about.”

_Ouch. That stung._

“You don’t know anything about me.” You snap and he looks apologetic.

“Sorry.” He mumbles.

“It’s ok.”You roll your eyes a little.

“Got any more interrogating you need to do?” There was a small twinkle in his eye. At least he was in a much better mood than yesterday.

“Ugh. No.” You almost felt like pouting as you left him alone and made your way up the front. You tried not to stomp a little but failed.

“You a Star Wars fan?”  He asks suddenly.

“What?”

He was joining you at the front counter, a full rare grin spread across his narrow face. “Do you like Star Wars?

“Doesn’t everybody?”

“You’d be surprised.” He nearly chuckles. “But not everyone wears Star Wars pants.” He hands you his selections and you ring him up.

You feel the heat in your cheeks and you could tell by his smirk he saw you blushing. “Of course I like Star Wars. I’m a big fan.”

“I don’t know if you are.” He repeats your words back to you as you complete the transaction and bag up his books.

“Hey.” You growl. “Now _that_ I take offense to.”

“Which is best, prequels, originals, or sequels?” He asks as he takes his bag.

“Absolutely not the prequels. It’s a toss up between the other two depending on my mood.” You answer. “You?”

“About the same.” He answers, heading towards the door. “Maybe more of the originals. The sequels are tricky because I can see so much of myself in them.”

“Self reflection can be a bitch.” You tease.

“Huh… Yea.” He digests your answer with a small smile before pushing the door open, the bell chiming away.

“Have a nice day.” You call out and he holds his hand up in farewell as he leaves.

You smirk, feeling remarkably better about the second meeting with the mystery man as opposed to the first. Something must have been bothering him yesterday.  You mark his sale in the daily log and go to straighten up the desk. A small bit of plastic clatters to the floor as it falls from behind a few flyers.

_Oh my God._

It was his license from yesterday. You both had forgotten about it, two days in a row. You pick it up carefully and glance at the non smiling face of its owner before reading off his details.

Adam Driver. November 19, 1983. 6 ft 3 in…

_Wait._

It hits you a tsunami as you realize where you had known him from. It wasn’t a personal recollection, but a global one. He was Adam fucking Driver, the actor that had exhilarated millions in his wide range of film and TV roles. Most notably was Star Wars where he had played galactic dark prince Kylo Ren. You had even had a little crush on him and his character back when it aired.

_Yet the man was less than two inches from you and you still didn’t recognize him. AND HE KNEW._

Never in your life have you felt such disappointment in yourself. All the air in your lungs leaves in a whoosh as you shake your head in disbelief. Just wait until you tell your best friend about this one. She’s going to come apart.  You stare at his license, still in shock. The bastard was totally messing with you today once he realized you couldn’t figure it out.

_Stupid Star Wars._

His face, that fucking famous mug, glared back at you from his picture and your finger traces gently over where his name was marked.

Adam Driver.

His license finds its way into your pocket.

You didn’t have to call him just yet. Let him get a good distance away first.

_That will show him._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eeeeeek!!!!!!!! Please comment! i needs them like they are air! 
> 
> Chapter 3 will be soon!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ::::::THIS CHAPTER HAS A MILD TRIGGER WARNING::::::  
> Just wanted to put that out there, just in case someone wants to skip. I'll put a line break in so if you want to avoid a brief attempt at assault on you, the reader, just skip until you get to the line. 
> 
> Thank you for all the support I have gotten so far with my story! I hope everyone has enjoyed it so far! See you at the end!

You actually forgot about Adam’s license in your pocket for the rest of the day. There were enough customers that flitted in and around the store to keep you from losing your thoughts about your earlier adventure. Then Grandfather had finally come home, his arms laden with groceries and sweets, and you had gleefully helped him upstairs to unload his purchases into the compact kitchen the two of you shared. He closed up the shop while you chopped veggies and tofu for a quick stir fry, adding in the soba noodles and tossing the entirely contents expertly within the pan with the sauce. Before you had arrived to stay with him, Grandfather had survived on only local take out, frozen TV platters, and church dinners. He would never admit it, but his health has much approved since you took on the cooking. You still enjoyed a good old fashioned New York slice or chicken curry take away every once in awhile, but at least now he was able to get in a good amount of fruits and vegetables.

Over dinner you mentioned to him the sale of the rare book and his eyebrows raise as you tell him the story, including the bit about Adam Driver.

“Really? A Hollywood star, right in my shop?” You grin and hand him Adam’s license as proof.

He chortles, flipping the card around in his hands to study it before handing it back. He peers at you over his reading glasses. “You need to return that card to that young man.” His tone was joking, but stern.

“Yes, Grandfather.” You feel yourself blush again and you avoid his knowing gaze. You clear the table and head off to bed.

“Tomorrow. Call him tomorrow.” He calls out.

“Yes, Grandfather.” You call back. “Good night!”

You didn’t call him. At least not yet. It was now midday and the license was burning in your pocket as you wandered around the store, dusting and re-shelving books. You were also choosing to ignore the fact that you wore one of your favorite outfits today, just in case.

_In case of Adam._

It was your favorite pair of dark wash skinny jeans and baby blue tunic top, which had simple ties at the top, leaving your shoulders bare yet the length and sleeves were long and flowing. You paired it with your most comfortable boots and a medium width belt to show off your slim waist. Grandfather had left the store in your charge again, as he had to take his elderly neighborhood friend to the hospital. You tried not to feel anxious about calling Adam, but the task loomed over you, hovering on the cusp of every moment.

_Ugh. This is ridiculous. Just call him._

You make another pass to the front counter, where Adam’s customer card sat perfectly in the middle after already being adjusted obsessively this morning by yours truly.

You pick up the phone a half a dozen of times, hanging up each time after entering a series of his numbers. You made it to 7 numbers that time. Getting closer.

The bell over the door chimed again and younger man in black clothing shuffled in, his shoulders swinging wide as his surveyed the store. He looked more like he belonged in a counterfeit bling shop in Harlem, as opposed to a quaint bookshop in Brooklyn. You narrow your eyes as his back as he raps his knuckles over the edges of the books.

“Yo.” He calls out from a few aisles over. “Y’all got anything else in here but books?”

You leave the front counter and walk over to him, your arms crossed in frustration.

“We are a bookstore. We sell books.” You manage, finding him hiding in the corner of the Travel section. This had to be one of your favorite sections, as it felt like you were surrounded by the places you had seen and loved as a child. He was thumbing roughly through a paperback on Modern Day Egypt and you cringe as he split the back binding repeatedly.

“Chill lady.” He laughs, looking up at you finally. He lets out a low whistle as he once overs you again. “Damn. Never thought a book nerd could be so damn fine.”

You scowl as he tossed the book haphazardly back on the shelf and approaches you, immediately breaching your circle of comfort.

“Ummm.” You take a step back to try to put some distance between you and the man who now looked at you predatorily. He only closed the gap again. This wasn’t like yesterday, when Adam had stepped against you, into your circle and you felt like melting. This time you felt like screaming, running, or stabbing him in the side of his stupid ballcap with a pen.

You realize in horror that there was no more space for you to retreat and he had you pinned between Europe and Asia.

“What’s your name, girl?” He grins and you try to suppress a grimace.

“None of your business.” You manage. “Now I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” Your voice was stronger than you felt.

He glanced around, noting the empty shop. “No one else here to make me.”  Although this man was no Adam, he was still much larger than you and you felt a shiver of fear run cold through your veins. He must have seen it flash in your eyes as well, as he suddenly gleamed at you, reaching out to touch your face.

“You don’t have to make this so unpleasant, ya know.”

You did the only thing you could thing of and you punch his face as hard as you could, your bones feeling like they crumpled in your hand as you moved to run away.

_If you could just get out the door, then-_

He catches you immediately and slams you against the bookcase, a few volumes falling down from the shelves around you. You wheeze as all the air leaves your lungs.

“Fucking bitch.” He spits in your face. “Like hell this will pleasant now.” His free hand comes up around your throat and you choke, your lungs burning as they were still trying to recover from having the wind knocked out of them. He slaps you hard across the face and you taste the sharp metal of blood as your face burns from the impact.

“Stop.” You manage. “Please stop. Help!” Your voice was barely able to break a whisper.

“No one is coming for you, bitch.” He reaches over and pulls the ties to your shirt, exposing more of your skin. He pulls harder and it rips and you struggle not to cry.

_This isn’t supposed to happen like this._

“Stop! No! Help!” You wheeze again louder this time as he grabs for your belt.

Neither of you had heard the bells of the door opening and neither of you notice the looming dark figure that was now rapidly approaching.

Everything that happened next seemed to happen in slow motion, but then again it happened so fast you could do nothing but watch it unfold.

A large hand connected with the side of the face of the thug, sending him sprawling away from you. The owner of the large hands used another one to gently nudge you behind him as he stepped further in front of you. You felt dizzy but the familiar woodsy scent that suddenly surrounded you was somewhat comforting. You heard the sounds of a fist hitting flesh again and the squeak of sneakers against the floor as the thug struggled to stand.

The figure in front of you rumbles, his voice deep and loud as he bellows at the man who had assaulted you. There was another crack and then you heard the hasty echo of footsteps as they ran off. The bell chimed again announcing the departure of the piece of shit that threatened you, leaving the store in whisper silence.

You wanted to scream, you wanted to cry, you wanted to throw your arms around your tall savior, but instead all you were able to do was kneel there on the floor, gasping for air.

* * *

 

“Hey you.” The voice was back, rumbling deep around you, only this time it was gentle, soft and careful. He drops a knee to draw closer to you and you feel your lungs squeezing tighter as he too breaches your comfort bubble. A large knuckle tips under your chin and gently guides your gaze up to meet his. “Are you alright?”

You blink away the sudden sting of tears, finding yourself looking into the dark gold ochre of Adam’s eyes.

_He saved you._

You knew you recognized the coat and his scent, but it was different to look directly into his face and know for sure. Without thinking you launch yourself at him, throwing your arms around his solid form and pressing your face into the dense fabric of his coat. He stills for just a moment, but then allows his arms to come around you, holding you gently. Feeling the safety of his embrace, you hiccup softly as the tears fall.

His chest rumbles beneath you as he makes a sound of comfort, tightening his hold on you. “You’re safe now.” He murmurs into your hair. “It will be ok.” Time seems to slow as he keeps you in his embrace until your breathing evens. “We should probably call the police.” He mentions softly and moves slowly to stand, pulling you up with him. He glances down, taking note of your torn clothing and the slight shiver of your body and he slips his coat from his shoulders to drape around your own. He pulls it snugly over you, covering your exposed skin and you feel the tremors slowly leave. The weight of the coat was perfect, the fabric heavy and warm from the heat of him. His scent was layered in every stitch and you sigh, feeling yourself return to center a little bit more.

Adam guides you gently back up to the front of the store, casually flipping the sign to ‘Closed’ on the door and reaching for his phone. He talks roughly with someone on the other line, but your mind couldn’t seem to grasp at any of the words he was saying. You slump down, sitting on the floor with your back to the counter as he finishes the call. He joins you a few moments later, sliding down the counter wall slowly.

“Thank you.” You murmur, nudging your knee against his thigh.

“Police are on their way.” He says softly. “You doing ok?”

“Better now.” You respond, twisting your head to look over at him. His eyes are warm as he sends you a small smile from the corner of his soft mouth.

“Good. That’s good.” He nudges his leg against yours this time. “What’s your name, kid?”

You tell him, your voice getting stronger and he repeats it slowly, looking down at you through his disheveled hair. 

“It suits you.” He says with a grin. 

“You saved me.” You reply.  “I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t shown up.”

His eyes darkened and he scowled. “Don’t think about that. I’m glad I showed up when I did.”

“Thank you.” You whisper again and his eyes soften. He moves his arm to wrap around your shoulders and he pulls you against him for a moment.

“Do I get to tell people that Kylo Ren saved my life?” You tease and he scoffs, his breath ruffling through your hair.

“Oh, did you finally figure out who I was? I could tell it was driving you nuts yesterday.”

You can’t help but chuckle. “I figured it out when I looked at your license.”

Adam laughed with you. “Well, that’s a refreshing change I suppose.”

The bell chimed on the door and you freeze, your heart plummeting and prickles of fear edging around your body. Adam’s hand immediately comes up to rest on your knee.

“I’m here, it’s ok.”

“Don’t leave.” Your voice was a shudder and his thumb runs a small circle on your knee.

“I’m not going anywhere.” He murmurs.

“Hello? NYPD.” A voice chimes out into the store. Adam’s hand finds your elbow as he helps you stand and the two of you were greeted by a pair of uniformed officers. They both eyeball you, hiding in the folds of Adam’s coat and you swallow.

“Someone reported an assault.” They stated. There was a man and a woman, both equally intimidating and they stared at you both suspiciously.

“That was me.” Adam steps forward and begins to explain the situation. He told them how he was coming in to get his license he left and heard you struggling. He guided them over to the scene and walked them through how he decked the man and even admitted to beating him before he ran off. He gave his best description of the perpetrator, all the while the police were nodding, and jotting things down in their notebook.

Then they turn to you.

You do your best to tell them what happened, trying not to cry at the memory of the fingers tightening around your neck or the snap of your clothing being ripped. Adam makes his way over, his hand suddenly warm at the small of your back.

His eyes widen in surprise when you explain that you also punched the guy and you feel him tense as you explain how he was tearing open your clothing. The officers seemed much more sympathetic now and they politely asked if they could photograph your wounds.

_Wounds?_

You look at Adam in confusion and he clears his throat and leans down, his lips a breath away from your ear. He whispers your name. “You look like you’ve been through quite a fight.” His thumb moves to gently brush against your cheek and you wince as you realize how tender it was. You hesitantly agree to the photos and Adam stands close by, his hands fisting, clenching as he watched them snap photos of your face, your neck, and even your back, where large straps of bruises had begun to form. They asked if you wanted a ride to the hospital and you shook your head, declining. All you wanted was to hide in your nest with a blanket and a warm hug.

_Grandfather is going to be livid._

They collect both yours and Adam’s contact information before leaving, telling you they will be in touch and then they were gone, leaving you alone again with Adam in a store that now echoed in silence.

“Can I lock the door?” He asks softly, watching the officers pull away. You nod and he flips the lock. He motions to the stairs. “Do you live here as well?” You nod again and he smiles. “Why don’t you run upstairs and change your clothing. I’ll wait down here for you.”

You follow his lead and head upstairs to grab a new sweater, throwing your favorite ruined shirt in the waste can along with your belt. The reflection in the hall mirror stops you and gasp at your reflection. Your hair was in disarray, your lip swollen and split with a reddening that reached up to your right cheekbone. The skin there was broken and had begun to bruise and your eyes were red, puffy from the tears that had been leaking. Your neck was in a similar state, with multiple bruises in the shape of finger pads dotting the slim surface.

Ugh. This was definitely not the version of you that you had wanted Adam to see.

You try to fix yourself up a bit before heading back down the stairs to the store, Adams coat folded neatly over your arm. He was still there, as promised and pursuing the DIY section when you return. His face breaks into a crooked smile when he spots you and he heads over, his hands stuffed in his jean pockets. He looks ridiculously cute in his rumpled grey sweater, his broad shoulders stretching the fabric to a snug fit.

You hand him back his jacket, your fingers brushing against his as the heavy wool traded hands. Despite everything that has happened today, you couldn’t help the rush of electricity that seemed to follow every time your skin met his.

“Are you here alone?” His voice was soft and laced with such a sense of care that it made your heart twinge.

“Until Grandfather comes home.”

“Would you like me to wait with you?”

You hesitate. “You’ve already done so much.”

There was nearly a growl that left his chest. “Nonsense. I did what any man should do in that position. I just..” He trails off and stares at you gently. “I just regret that had to be you who was… Of all the people who…” He cleared his throat and tugged a hand forcefully through his hair. “You are the last person who I…”

He gave up trying to find the words and reached over for your hand instead. You tried not to gasp at the feeling of him and found yourself staring at where the two of you were touching. It was almost as if you had forgotten how large his hands were as he engulfed your own within his fingers. It made you feel even smaller and you relished in the trickles of electricity that danced across your skin. His wide thumb brushed softly against your bruised knuckles, the skin hypersensitive from where you had attempted to defend yourself.

“You must have really decked him.” He said, a smile in his voice. “Good girl.”

Your body flushed with pleasure at his praise and you wanted nothing more than to find more ways to please him. You wonder if you could get away with another hug; anything to feel him surround you one more time.

_Fuck it._

You step into him again, pulling him against you and he chuckles as he envelops you, his arms encircling you and pulling you even closer.

“Please let me stay.” You hear him mumble into your hair. “I’m not comfortable with the thought of leaving you alone.”

“Ok.” You answer.

_As if that took any arm twisting._

“Want to come upstairs?” You offer and you feel him swallow hard.

“Yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are! I was really nervous about this chapter for some reason. I would sooo appreciate any comments! Thank you again for reading! <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick short chapter this time! I'm loving the slow progression of the way he regards you/the reader, and shows a bit more personality. 
> 
> Next chapter is written! Thank you all for your wonderful comments and kudos! Much love to kylotrashforever. <3
> 
> see you after!

You contemplate to yourself for a second on which stairs to take him up. You would be fine in the main living space you shared with Grandfather, but there was something in you that needed your tower, needed its small space and familiar walls.

_Plus. If you get Adam in your nest… you would not say no to a snuggle._

He stands behind you waiting as you double check the lock and door sign. Grandfather wouldn’t be home for a few more hours, but you knew he would be ok with you closing up early after a day like today. You reach for Adam’s hand which he gives you willingly, and pull him towards your secret stair. He looks back at the main staircase in confusion and you smile. 

“Do you mind one more gimmick?” you ask softly. “I just could really use my own space right now.”

His hand squeezes yours. “It’s fine. Whatever you need.”

You pull open your book stairs and climb up, suddenly nervous as you feel the heat of his gaze focused on you.

“It’s this square here.” You show him where to press to activate the hidden latch and you push up the ceiling door. You crawl over into your nest, leaning over to open the window for the afternoon breeze. He follows you up, gently closing the trap door as he folds himself into your space.  

“This is incredible.” He says softly sitting back on your pile. You forgot how large he was, his large frame monopolizing most of the real estate in your tower and you feel slightly guilty. It was easy however, to slide your smaller self into the space against him, bumping him lightly with your knees. You flick on your old school iPod and for the first time since this morning you felt you could breathe.

“Did you see all of these?” His voice was a welcome addition to your secret place. He gestured to your photos on the wall and you felt yourself nod.

“My family, my mum and dad and I, always traveled. It was how I grew up.” You answer softly.

“Incredible.” He thumbs over one of your favorite places, the towering coast lands of Vietnam. You had captured it right when the sun came to life, filling the land with spectacular arrays of color. “You’ve been here?  He asks.

“I took that very picture.” Your voice was only slightly smug.

He looks over at you, seeming to study your features with an intensity that made the hairs on your arm rise in awareness. “You were right before.” He rumbles gently. “I don’t know anything about you.” His arm comes up slowly, his hand extending a curled knuckle to trace delicately down your jaw line. “But I’d like to get to know you, if that’s ok.”

You lean slightly into his touch and his hand opens as you nudge against him, his palm cupping your tender face. “More than ok.” You manage to form the words. His touch is warm, nearly lighting a fire as his thumb hovers over your lip, ghosting over your injury. The air between the two of you seems to shiver as he exhales loudly, dropping his hand from your face. He clears his throat.

“So tell me about your photos.” His voice breaks the silence, but his gaze still lingers on your mouth.  

“I traveled almost all my life.” You smile, taking the opportunity to settle against him. He was warm and firm, his toned frame contrasting your usual soft pillows.

_Like hell if you minded._

He waits for you to finish adjusting and then drapes himself around you, his arms a welcome heaviness. “Is this ok?” He asks into your hair.

You hum and nod in approval and you swear you feel the ghost of kiss pressed into the top of your head.

“Tell me more about your travels.” He murmurs, his chest vibrating beneath you.

So you do. You fill the hour reliving your favorite memories and pointing out various photos on your wall. You had always loved storytelling and you rely on your talents to weave your adventures together. You could tell that Adam loved every minute, engaging you with questions and chuckling at the parts that had always made you laugh. At some point his hand had found yours, his fingers slipping through to intertwine with your much smaller ones. He laces them together then pulls them away slowly, stroking the skin between each finger with his own, before beginning again. It was one of the simplest touches, but it sent shivers down your spine and you can’t help but whimper. You feel his breathing quicken beneath you as his fingers trail against your skin.

There is a sinking weight that begins to build between your legs, an unfamiliar tingle that seems to ache the longer you focus on it. Your underwear feels damp and your shift against him, trying to find a more comfortable spot. His grip on your hand unexpectedly tightens and you realize that he has gone completely still, his body suddenly unyielding against your own.

_What? Oh._

After your jumbled shifting, you have ended up halfway in his lap somehow, his right leg a taut muscle under your hip. You shift experimentally and he groans as you slip further against him, the cleft of your rear finding an unknown hardness and he hisses your name into your hair. His hand releases yours and he grabs you firmly around the hips, pulling you the rest of the way into his lap. You could feel the warm humidity of his breath against the back of your neck and you arch slightly, suppressing a shudder. The distinct firmness against your back hardens and you blush, realizing how you’ve affected him.

“Not fair.” He seems to growl against your skin, his lips a whisper away from its surface. “You’re distracting me and I was enjoying your stories.”

“You started it.” You whisper and you swear you can feel him smile.

“Would you be mad if I said I’m not sorry?” One of his hands slips from your hip to graze down your arm, and he grabs your hand again.

“Depends on how you plan on finishing it.” You reply snarkily and you feel him freeze.

Your name falls from his lips again, his voice deep and raspy and sending another twinge to you center. “I can’t.” He whispers. “Not yet. Not while you’re…” His thumb runs over your bruised knuckles.

“I’m not some sort of fragile doll.” You murmur, both disappointment and relief flying through your system at his rejection.

_You want him. You know you want him. But this didn’t feel quite right._

“Give it a little more time.” His voice is quiet. “I don’t want to hurt you.” His lips graze against the skin where your neck meets your shoulder.

_If only you could kiss him._

Your tongue runs over your swollen split lip and you sigh.

 “Believe me.” Adam continues huskily. “I want to finish it.” He finally presses a kiss, his lips unbearably soft but leaving a searing heat into your skin. “Just give it a little longer.”

You lean against him, relaxing into his chest and he wraps his arms around you, squeezing in a gentle hug. “Ok.” You answer him softly. “I can wait.” He relaxes at your words, pressing another light kiss at your temple.

“Good girl.” He murmurs and you flush. “Now, tell me more about Tibet.” 

It was sometime later that you heard the chime of the door and you glance at the monitor to see Grandfather entering the store. He relocks the door behind him and looks confused at the darkened room. You hear him call your name and you slowly move to untangle yourself from Adam. It was decidedly cold without his body heat and you suddenly yearned to go back in time and relive the last few hours of peace in his arms.

He must have felt the same way. “We’ll have to continue this again sometime.” He says softly, pointing at a picture of you at the edge of an active volcano. “I didn’t get to hear about that one yet.”

You smile, reaching over him to open the door into the hall closet. “Me first.” You say. “Don’t want to give Grandfather a scare with you popping out at him.”

Adam chuckles and allows you to crawl over him and out the exit. You open the hallway door with a creak and you hear Grandfather approaching.

“There you are.” He says.  “What is going on with the store?”

You exit sheepishly and move to stand when Grandfather catches the state of your face.

“My dear girl, what happened?” He exclaimed, moving to get a closer look at your injuries. You felt tears rise up, a hot sting behind your eyes, as your emotions waver at the compassion in his voice.

“She was attacked.” Adam said gently, emerging from the closet behind you.

Grandfather’s face flickers in recognition over the man whose face he had seen on the license.

“He rescued me, Papa.” You instinctually revert to your childhood nickname for him and his eyes well up with tears of his own as he reaches over to gently examine your cheek. You let out a small cry as Grandfather pulls you into an embrace, the dam bursting at the comfort of him and your tears spilling over into the fibers of his sweater. He looks over at Adam, who was standing quietly to the side, out of the way and holding his coat.

“Is that true, son?” Grandfather asked.

Adam straightened as he addressed him. “I did what any man should have done, sir.”

Grandfather glanced at you again before continuing. “What happened? Tell me exactly!”

Adam hesitates, glancing over at you and catching your nod before continuing. He told Grandfather of the attack, using the details you had told the police to fill in what happened before he arrived. Grandfather clutched you closer as Adam covered the attack and how he beat the man before he ran off.

“I hope you broke his fucking face.” Grandfather said roughly and you pulled away in surprise. Grandfather never swore.

“Papa!” you exclaim and he raises an eyebrow at you.

“I hope you called the police.” He notes.

“It was the first thing we did.” Adam chimes in.

“Good. Good. Did you go to the hospital?” Grandfather asks.

“I’m fine.” You speak out. “I don’t need to go to any hospital.”

Both Adam and Grandfather grumble slightly. You roll your eyes.

“I’ll tell what’s for sure.” Grandfather started, turning towards the kitchen. “I’m not leaving you in the store alone again.”

“Grandfather!” You exclaim. “That’s really not needed.”

“My mind is made up.” He answered firmly. “At least until that bastard is behind bars. I will hire someone else to work a few shifts with you if needed. But I’m not leaving you alone and defenseless.” He pulls out two glasses and sets them on the counter, filling them with a warm amber liquid from a bottle you have never seen before.

“I’m not defenseless.” You wave around your bruised fist and you see Adam’s lips quirk into small grin before he smothered it. “We can’t afford to hire anyone else and you know it, Grandfather.”

“You leave that to me to figure out.” He said, walking the glasses over and kissing you on the forehead as he passed. He hands a glass to Adam. “I bet you could use a drink after today, son. Here’s to your fateful timing and for saving my girl.”

Adam raises his glass in agreement. “Here’s to learning a solid right hook in high school.”

Grandfather hums in agreement and they both bring their glass to their nose, sniffing lightly before tipping back their glasses slowly. You notice how Adam’s tongue darts out to catch a drop that lingers on his lip before he rolls his lips together, sucking them in slightly.

“That’s excellent. Kind of fruity with a long finish.” Adam comments and Grandfather beams.

“1946. Single Malt from Glengoyne.” He explains.  “Solely reserved for special occasions. Here,” he leans forward and pours Adam’s glass another splash. “One more. You’ve certainly earned it.”

“Is that whiskey? Can I try?” You pipe in and they both turn to look at you. Grandfather seems slightly shocked and a little scandalized as he looks at the bottle and then back to you. Adam just looks amused and slowly walks over to you, extending his glass.

“Ever had whiskey before?” He asks, his eyes smiling as you take his glass and sniff it.

“No. I like white wine and cocktails though.” You answer, your nose already burning a little.

“Just start with a sip.” He murmurs. “Don’t throw it back like cheap shot.”

The alcohol burns as soon as it hits your tongue, a tingling, burning heat that fills your nose and throat. It leaves a path of liquid fire as it trails into your stomach and you can’t help but cough. Adam’s hand is immediately on your back, patting gently as you wheeze slightly.

“Jesus Christ.” You sputter, clearing your throat. “I think that burned out all my nose hairs.”

Adam was full on grinning now, a feature that made his face remarkably younger and you wanted to kiss the crinkle in his cheek.

“Now again, another sip.” He advises. “Keep it on your tongue a little longer.”

You look at him like he was crazy, but comply, tipping his glass back again and holding the liquid back. It still burned but this time you could at least taste something other than the heat.

_It is just as unpleasant. `_

You choke again and Adam’s hand returns to your back, patting gently until you catch your breath. His fingers linger slightly at the small of your back before he pulls away.

“Nope.” You say. “Not for me.” Grandfather looks relieved and Adam just smiles, taking his glass back and finishing it off.

“Thank you, sir.” He says, setting down his glass and extending a hand to Grandfather for a handshake.

Grandfather swatted Adam’s hand away gently and pulled the extra tall man into a hug, forcing Adam to bend over slightly. “None of that.” Grandfather said warmly.  “You save my girl, you’re family to me.”

_Adam looks extra adorable with a blush in his cheeks._

As soon as Grandfather releases him he makes his way over to you, a sheepish smile tugging on his lips.

“I gotta run.” He says, pulling on his coat. “Do you still have my license somewhere?”

Your cheeks burn slightly as you wiggle it out of your pocket and place the warmed plastic into his hand. He hesitates slightly as he turns to leave and you take advantage of the opening and lunge forward for another hug.

His arms immediately come around you, squeezing gently. “I’ll be back.” He murmurs.

“Do you text?” You ask, pulling out your phone. He takes it from you and presses a few buttons.

“Not really. But I will for you.” He answers, handing it back. He squeezes your hand gently before heading to the main stairs. “If you come with me, sir? I’d like to talk to you about something.” Grandfather follows quickly behind him, their footsteps fading down the stairs as they leave and for the first time since this morning, you are completely alone.

It wasn’t hard to admit that you missed him already.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sometimes wish I could just roll him out of the page and into real life. Ugh. My heart. 
> 
> Please comment! They make me so happy! 
> 
> The next chapter will be up soon. :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone who has left a kudos, bookmarked, subbed or commented! Every one of them makes me so happy! I have a few comments to get back to, which I promse I will! 
> 
> I hope everyone is loving it so far. There are a lot of fun things planned, so stick with me! 
> 
> Here is Chapter 5! Inching oh so deliciously slowly to our goal!   
> See you at the end!

True to his word, Grandfather refused to leave you alone in the shop for more than twenty minutes at a time. He had put up a ‘Help Wanted’ sign the following day and you have been quietly hiding the applications that had been turned in. You understood his concern to a degree, but you were well past the age where you needed a babysitter. Grandfather had apparently decided that Adam was his new favorite person in the world and had done nothing but prattle on and on about his new friend. He had even put a picture of Adam framed up on the wall next to your college graduation photo.

It was completely embarrassing but a part of you liked that your Grandfather shared in your current obsession.

You couldn’t wait for Adam to waltz back into the store, and he had promised it would be soon.

He had already lived up to the promise to text you, although it was sparing, it was good to hear from him. He was currently filming a movie over in the city and the schedule had him up at weird hours, but he always responded when you reached out.

You flick through your phone idly, trying to resist spamming him with another message.

_You were at least attempting to not seem too needy._

He had just sent you a dorky picture in reply to your question if they were feeding him enough. He was holding out his hand in a giant thumbs up next to a huge turkey sandwich.

It was now five days since you had last seen him, had his arms around yours. It was far too long. You cave and sent a quick text.

**You: Miss you.**

Missing him was an understatement. Your injuries were practically healed, only some minor bruising left. The ache that he had left behind was starting to hurt worse than the scrapes you had left on your skin. It wasn’t a feeling you were used to. Your life had required you to be independent and strong, but Adam had opened a weakness, a vulnerability in your heart that you weren’t sure you knew what to do with.

You still weren’t sure if you even liked having such an open wound in your emotions.

Your phone buzzes and you glance down, a grin breaking across your face and spreading like a fire.

**Adam: Don’t worry. I can’t stop thinking about you either.**

 You cram your phone back into your pocket and put on a smile as yet another person comes through the door. They were dressed in a full jumpsuit and were holding a clipboard.

“There you are!” You hear Grandfather exclaim behind you. “I thought you would be here by 10.”

“We got held up, sir.” The man said, looking sheepish. “But we’re here now. Shall we get started?” The man in the jumpsuit holds the door open for three more jump suited men to come through. 

“Grandfather.” You whisper. “Who are these men?”

“They are here to install our new security system!” He exclaimed excitedly, moving to speak to the man in charge. They walked off muttering, Grandfather pointing and gesturing to various areas. It took about three hours for the system to be fully installed, down to the secret panic button under the front counter.

Grandfather had explained in four separate ways at this point that if you were to ever see your attacker again, to press the panic button. There were also six new cameras located throughout the store and a few extra locks on the exit doors and the door to Rares. You could tell that Grandfather was very pleased by the way he hummed his way around the kitchen that evening, unpacking the Chinese he had delivered.

You helped yourself to some chicken low mein before taking your seat on the couch. Grandfather had wanted to have a movie night, which was fine by you. Anything to distract you from Adam. Grandfather settled in his normal armchair and flicked on the TV before digging into his sweet and sour. You picked through your low mein, eating through the broccoli and carrots when you hear a familiar baritone come through the TV speakers.

_Dammit Grandfather._

He had picked one of Adam’s movies and was looking pleased as punch with himself.

“Is this really what you want to watch?” You groan.

“I thought you’d be happy.” He teases. “You’ve been mooning after him all week.”

“I have not!” You exclaim and he chuckles.

So much for taking your mind off Adam for a bit.

The movie ends up sucking you in and you couldn’t help but stare a little too long at Adam during his scenes. He really was a brilliant actor and you realized you could tell certain characteristics that were distinctly Adam that would bleed into his role. You felt yourself slip deeper into an emotion you were too afraid to give a name, but it was there. It twisted your stomach and made you light headed, it sent shivers through your spine and made a blended mess of your heart.

You quickly shut your thoughts away and try to enjoy the rest of the movie, despite the deep snores coming from Grandfather’s chair. It wasn’t until the credits started to roll that you noticed your phone was in your hand, Adam’s text conversation still open on the screen. You re-read his last text again before clicking your phone off and you clear away the dishes and put away the leftovers.

“Grandfather.” You approach him gently, shaking his arm. He snorts awake, blinking slowly.

“Is it already over?” He moves to stand, grabbing your arm sleepily in support.

“I’ll have to tell Adam you found his movie a snooze-fest.” You tease, as Grandfather yawns.

“You will do no such thing.” He scolds firmly as you walk him to his room. “I owe that man so much.”

_What?_

“Too much.” He continues muttering as you help him to his bed.

“What do you mean, you owe him?” You question. Grandfather wakes up a bit, startling at his own words.

“No matter, no matter.” He rushes, pushing you out the door. “He saved your life, remember. I owe him everything.”

The door clicks closed in your face and you blink.

“Goodnight, Grandfather.” You call out into the wood. You hear a sleepy reply and shake your head, smiling as you head to your own room.

Grandfather had given you the room closest to the bathroom and when you had first arrived, it seemed too small and confining. It was a home defined by a handful of square feet instead of wide open skies and miles to a horizon. But now, as your heart lay in your small lofty room, this standard room was far too big. It was cozy enough with a double bed pressed against the wall and a soft blue lamp on the stand beside it. Your dresser was tucked into the single sized closet and a full length mirror was mounted on the wall beside it. There was a bookcase, of course, lined with your personal collection and more trinkets from your history. The walls were a dark green and Grandfather had framed his favorite of your travel photos along the surfaces. You click the light off and open the window, letting in the lights and smells of Brooklyn. You shimmy out of your clothes, tugging on an oversized tee shirt and curl up under covers. You hear your phone buzz in your pants pocket and you reach down on the floor to retrieve it. You ignore the flip flop feeling that wrestles in your chest you swipe it open.

**Adam: You awake?**

**You: Might be.** You snap a quick selfie in the soft light, an attempt at a flirty look on your face and send it off.

**Adam: Can I call you?**

You swallow hard, the phone feeling suddenly clammy in your hands. You had once stood at the edge of the Grand Canyon, seconds away from plummeting off its edge by a cord. You’ve soared over the skies of New Zealand with nothing but a parachute on your back. You’ve crawled through tight cave passages with nothing but darkness behind and ahead, and it was nothing compared to the icy squeeze that gripped your nerves now.

_Just do it._

**You: Yes.** You squeak a little as you hit send.

 One minute later the phone rings, Adam’s name lighting up your dark room.

There was a slight shake in your fingers as you pressed ‘Accept”.

 “Hey.” You manage.

“Hey.” His voice was deep, raspy even and slightly winded. “Sorry about that. I had to track down a place where there was no one around.” He scoffs at himself. “Not the easiest thing to find on a film set.”

“Is everything ok?”

“Yea. Fine. It’s fine.” He stutters a moment. “O-oh shit, it’s a lot later than I thought it was. This was a bad idea. I’m sorry. I’ll just-“

“No no no…” You interrupt. “Please don’t go. It’s good to talk to you.”

“Yea? You too.” He answers softly. “Sorry I’ve been so busy, but we should be done by tomorrow. With this part of the schedule at least.” He lets out a huff.

“It’s ok. I really do understand.” You add. “It kinda comes as part of the package deal of being with an actor.”

_Being with? What is he going to assume that you’re assuming?_

You try not to panic and focus on not breathing heavily into the phone like a murderer.

“It’s good you understand that.” He replies. “Not everyone does.”

“I’ve traveled enough to know that it’s about making the most of the time you do have. Quality, not quantity, right?”

“Exactly! Exactly.” He exclaims. “God it’s nice to hear that.” There’s the sound of something shaking and you hear him exhale. “I think they’re looking for me.”

“Do you need me to let you go?” You ask, trying to not be disappointed.

“No no. They haven’t caught me yet.” He chuckles.

“So what’s after this? Schedule wise?”

“Uh. Well, I have a day or two off. Then a day of interviews. Then I have to fly out to LA for some more stupid press stuff. I’ll probably have a week or so off when I get back. After that, I think filming will take us out to the UK for solid month or so.”  

“Oh, the UK!” You breathe. “I miss it! We would always find reasons to stop off in the UK here and there.”

“Yea? I haven’t had much of a chance to explore. Filming is usually pretty tight.”

“Maybe you just need an insider to show you the best places. Quality, remember?” You tease gently.

“Maybe I just need you.” He says it so softly you almost feel you imagined it.

“Well, you have me.” The words were out of your mouth before you stop them and you couldn’t help the flush of heat that filled your face.

“Not yet, but I will.” He rasps into the phone. “Fuck, I want to see you. I need to see you.”

“You will soon.” You manage to keep your voice steady. “I’m patient. As soon as-“

“Tomorrow.” He interjects. “I’m not patient. I should be free tomorrow.”

“That’s good. Then maybe we could hang out, grab a drink or a slice or whatever.”

“I’ve been thinking about whatever all week.” His voice deepens and a tremor runs through you.

“Me too.” You admit, your voice cracking slightly and you hear him inhale sharply.

“Damn, now I’m going to be all distracted going back on set.” He teases. “Fuck.”

“I like being on your mind.” You giggle.

“You usually are.” He mumbles. “Did Grandfather get the security upgrades?” He asks suddenly. You pause, both at the way he had addressed Grandfather and his knowledge of the situation.

“He did. They finished today.”

“Good. Good.” There was a bit of rustling on his line.

“You wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with that, would you?”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t ask me that.” He chuckles. There was a sudden clattering and you hear another voice. “Ah, shit. They found me. I gotta go.”

“Ok.” Your voice was soft. “Good night, Adam.”

“Hey.” He calls out your name and you pause. “I will see you tomorrow, I promise.”

“I can’t wait.” You murmur and he hums an affirmative.

“Ok ok, I’m coming!” You hear him yell out.

The room seems exceptionally silent as you end the call and toss your phone on your nightstand. There felt to be a slight ache the center of your being and every time you drift over to that tall, towering shadow in the back your mind, the ache only grew. Tonight the ache was surprisingly intense, most likely from hearing his voice rumble through you like a diesel engine, plowing rivets though your nerves. You shift your legs together, the bare skin of your thighs nearly electric as they skimmed against each other. You could very nearly hear the timber of his voice as you gasped, a pulsing longing growing in between your legs.

This was unfamiliar territory for you. You have attempted to explore your own sexual needs before, with no significant results. But this time felt different. You thought of Adam again, remembering how he felt against you, how he had groaned into your skin, how his broad hands held you stiffly in his lap. Slowly, your hands began to explore over your skin and you bite your lip, stifling a gasp. Your fingertips trail over the sensitive tickle of your hips and you push them lightly under the hem of your panties. Passing over the bundle of nerves, you jolt, surprised at how sensitive it is. The more your fingertips pass over its surface, the more your body responds, keening in pleasure. You barely notice as your hips begin to push and lift with your movements, your body going into auto pilot, desperately searching for something you couldn’t describe.

You feel your breath quicken as your hand settles into a rhythm over your core.

_Almost._

An orgasm passes over you, a mild fleeting release before the ache resettles and you fall back onto your pillows, breathless and disappointed.

_That was it?_

The first time you were able to bring yourself all the way to completion and you were entirely underwhelmed.

You groan, throwing your covers over your head in frustration and wait for the pull of nothingness to take you away to sleep.

 

 

* * *

 

 

You woke up the next morning to a text and you couldn’t help the squeal that burst from your lungs.

**Adam: Just wrapped. You free for dinner tonight?**

**You: Hell yes. Absolutely.**

You shower and put on a simple pair of black leggings with an oversized grey tunic, the fabric a super soft, but light knit. You add your favorite blue hedgehog scarf and twist your hair up into a messy bun before heading downstairs. Grandfather was already there, testing the new cameras and he smiles as you enter.

“There you are.” His voice was slightly nervous. “I’d like you to meet your new trainee.” You glance over the front counter and frown. A very large man, who looked more like a professional body builder than a bookshop employee, was standing there. His face is stoic, but he breaks out into a wide grin when he sees you. He was nearly bursting from the edges of his tee shirt and you can’t help but snort at the ‘Hi, I’m new!’ name tag pinned to one of his massive pectorals.

“Grandfather?” Your voice questions.

“Yes, yes. Not now, dear.” He shuffles as he introduces you to the brawn. You offer your name and he gives his in return.

“Dwayne.” You repeat. “Nice to meet you. You like reading?” Grandfather shoots you a dirty look.

“I do.” Dwayne states. “Most of the time, at least.”

“Favorite book?”

“100 Greatest Keto Recipies.” He answers, then winks.

You roll your eyes. “Difference in between fiction and non-fiction?”

“Fiction happens up here.” Dwayne points to his wide forehead before looking at Grandfather, who throws up his hands in exasperation.

“Enough.” Grandfather interrupts, looking at you sternly. “I’ve already given him an interview. Now it’s your job to show him the ropes.”

Dwayne smiles at you again. You sigh. You could definitely tell Grandfather didn’t pick his new employee based on book smarts. You don’t even remember seeing his application come in. You drag your trainee through each section, carefully pointing out the different genres.

“You live in Brooklyn long?” You ask while showing him how to get to the English history.

“All my life.” He closes the door after practicing it. “Your Grandfather tells me you used to travel the world before living here.”

“I did, not that it’s your business.” You sigh.

He raises an eyebrow at you. “I’m just here to help you… and your Grandfather. I don’t want to upset you.”

“Grandfather shouldn’t have hired you. We can’t afford it.” You smile at him for the first time and he relaxes. “I don’t mean to be rude. I’m just worried about him.”

“Do you even know what your Grandfather is paying me?” He asks, standing back to place a hand on his hip.

“No. But whatever it is, it’s too much.”

“Nah-uh.” He snaps his fingers and now it’s your turn to raise an eyebrow. “Your Grandfather has nothing to worry about. Just trust him.” He crosses his arms over his massive chest and winks. ‘You can trust me too.”

“Yeah, ok Dwayne. Take it easy, big guy.” You smile at him again.

You then hand him a box of new arrivals, and instruct him to shelf. He disappears behind the stacks, balancing the heavy box on just a few fingers. You figure that will take him a few hours and go to hunt down Grandfather.

He was bent over, inspecting the reptile section and pulling out a couple of choices to donate to the local community center. You kneel next to him and put out your loudest whisper.

“Grandfather. Who is that?”

“Dwayne. I thought we went through this earlier?” Grandfather chuckles. “Did you show him around?”

“Yes, yes.” You mutter. “He’s shelving the new arrivals. He should be stuck on that box all day.”

“Good.” Grandfather answered absentmindedly. “He’s fitting right in.”

“Grandfather,” You press. “If we were going to spend the money to hire an employee, shouldn’t we have found someone a bit more qualified?”

“Nonsense. Dwayne will do just fine. He came highly recommended.”

“From who?” You ask incredulously.

Grandfather stills for a moment and looks at you briefly before scurrying off to the children’s books. You chase after him. “Grandfather!”

“I will have no more questions.” He calls back. “He’s been hired and that’s final.”

“I have a date tonight.” You interrupt. Grandfather stops and turns around.

“Really? With who?”

“Adam.” You mutter.

Grandfather’s face breaks into a broad grin. “That is fantastic. You enjoy yourself! Stay out as late as you want.” Grandfather stops for a minute and looks at you, his face flushing. “Or would you need to come back here? I’m sure old Frank could use some company.” Old Frank was Grandfather’s best friend, and some nights they would drink themselves until completely knackered in Frank’s living room and watch old war movies all night. What Grandfather was implying made your cheeks redden. “In any case,“ he turns around to make some more donation selections, “I’ll clear out and leave you kids alone. Just in case.”

“Gr- Grandfather.” You stammer. “It’s a FIRST date.”

“Oh, you kids are so progressive these days. Who am I to judge?” He winks and starts to walk away, carrying a large stack of books to a donation box.

“It’s MY first date, Papa.” You say softly and he blanches. He sets the books down and turns to you, his fingers tapping together in a nervous tick.

“I see.” He says gently. “I forget sometimes, with how mature you’ve always been that you are still such a new soul.” He goes to stand beside you, still not quite looking you in the eye. “Your parents, I assume have filled you in already on the nature of things between a man and a woman?”

_Oh, dear sweet buttery Jesus._

“Yes, Grandfather.” You blurt, looking anywhere but directly at him. This was mortifying. You’ve known about sex since you were eight years old and caught two people going at it in the shower room at the local hostel you had been staying it. It was the cause of the first fight of many your parents had that lead to the road of you staying in Brooklyn.

“Oh, thank God.” He breathes in relief. “Then my dear, you will be just fine. A date is nothing but a chance to get to know someone better. Your mother must have dated dozens of boys before she found your father. Just be yourself. That’s who Adam met and that’s who he wants to get to know.”

“Ok.” You manage to whisper and you feel his strong arm come around you for a hug.

“You can call me at Old Frank’s if you need me, dear. But enjoy yourself and have fun. You need a little bit more of that in your life. You can’t spend all your time in here with all the dusty old books.”

“You do.” You counter, leaning into his comfortable embrace. He smelled of cedar, tobacco, and books, a scent you have long since categorized as home.

“Ah, yes. That’s true –but, my dear girl, I have already lived my life. Yours is just beginning.”  He squeezes you in a hug again before pulling away, whistling jovially as he picks up his books and disappears among the stacks. You groan, smearing your hands down your face. That conversation needed to be wiped from your brain immediately. There was a nervous shuffling and a clearing of the throat. You peek from between your fingers to see Dwayne standing there with an empty box.

“Finished.” He says proudly. “I also noticed that the Travel section was out of sorts so I took the liberty to correct the misplaced units. You could also use to reinforce the shelving back in the theology books. And install some new ones in cooking. There’s hardly anything for Keto recipes in there.”

_Huh. Well done._

“Excellent. Thanks Dwayne.” You straighten, coming up eye level to his massive chest. “Let’s get you started on learning the inventory system and how we log the transactions.” Dwayne trails behind you, bouncing slightly as you head to the front counter. Maybe this walking muscle will be useful after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! 
> 
> I love all you lurkers too, who at least enjoy the story enough to follow along! ;) 
> 
> Next chapter is ready and will be up soon. I also am putting a Reylo A/B/O fic in the works here soon, so keep an eye out for that if that's your thing! 
> 
> <3


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! 
> 
> OF course I've been giving much love to my new Reylo A/B/O, but I could never forget about Adam. :::Swooooon::: who could?? 
> 
> Thank you for everyone who is reading! see you at the end!

As the day closed, you only felt more and more nervous. Adam had texted in the afternoon that he would pick you up at seven. You had shuffled nervously around for closing, barely managing to mumble a good bye to Dwayne as he left. Grandfather shooed you upstairs to get ready and you have been sitting on your bed, staring into the depths of your closet since.

_Fancy? Casual? Flirty?_

All of your clothes suddenly seemed ill fitting and old and your groan in frustration.

You try ringing your best friend for help and she answers on the third ring. She has been eagerly following along with your Adam journey since day one. She had squealed loudly this morning when you filled her in on Adam’s date request.

“Nikki. What do I wear?” You whine mournfully into the phone, skipping the hellos. She laughs.

“What kind of date is he taking you on?” She asks.

“No idea.”

“Hmmmm.”   She hums thoughtfully.

“See? It’s impossible.” You groan.

“No it’s not. You just haven’t done this before. Now, hush and give me a moment to think.” You can practically hear her mentally rummaging through your closet. “Your black skinny jeans with the holes.”

“What?!” You exclaim. “For a date? Those are so trashed!”

“No no, trust me. Your legs look killer in those. Pair it with that red sweater, the one that’s extra long with the half sleeves.”

“I don’t own a red sweater?” You question loudly. 

“Yes, you do.” Nikki sighed. “All the way in the back, on the left, behind your hot dog costume.”

“Maybe I should just wear the hot dog costume.” You mutter and Nikki laughs.

“Oh my God. Only if you wear nothing but sexy underwear underneath and show up at his door.” She shrieks into a load of giggles and you mumble incoherently, pushing back further into the reaches of your closet. You pull past the hot dog costume and pull out the exact sweater Nikki was talking about. It had originally been your mothers, and was made out of the softest cashmere from your trip to Mongolia. It was a one of a kind piece and you had forgotten about it long before you had grown into a more womanly form.  This was actually perfect. You chat with Nikki as you slip on your favorite black skinny jeans and pull on the red sweater. It fit you like a glove and extenuated the curves you already owned, making them weave back and forth over your body. You quickly snap a photo and send it to Nikki who squeals in response.

“Oh my God you look incredible. Like seriously, I don’t know how he’s going to keep his hands off of you.” She compliments. You keep your makeup light and natural and Nikki walks you through styling your hair up in a series of braids and curls.

“Oh, wear your black trench. Hide away all the goodies until the last possible minute.” Nikki urges. She picks your earrings, two wide silver hoops, and you slip on your favorite chunky black boots. They would be comfortable and warm enough if there was to be a bit of walking. The last thing you wanted to be caught doing was hiking seventeen city blocks in heels. You finish your look with your favorite dark red lip color and glance at the clock.

6:45.

You say goodbye to Nikki, blushing at her well wishes and suggestive comments, and pull on the black trench. Heading downstairs, you wave goodbye to Grandfather, who reminds you that he will be with old Frank all night. You try not to dwell too hard on the implications of his words as you wait at the bottom of the stairs. Your phone goes off in your handbag, a small but practical crossbody bag. It was Adam.

“Hello?”

“I’m here. I didn’t know what door to knock on or whatever and I didn’t want to set off any alarms.”

“I’ll be right out.”

The phone clicks and you feel your heart flying out of your chest as you step towards the door. You could see his tall shadowy form standing in the evening light and you swallow hard as you let yourself out. He fidgets awkwardly on his feet as you lock the door behind you and turn to give him a nervous smile. He gives you one in return and clears his throat.

“You ready?”

“Where are we headed?” you ask, hooking your arm into his elbow. You feel his body tense for a split second before relaxing against yours. He was wearing his long coat again; with the collar popped up to slightly hide his face. His hair was characteristically pulled over his ears with a few strands hovering over his brow. He had on a beanie and a scarf, a continued attempt to hide his recognizable face. He ducks his head and starts walking, his legs pacing in long strides compared to your shorter steps and you have to push yourself to keep up with him.  He arrives at a classic, black Harley and you feel your stomach flip in anticipation. He pulls out the passenger helmet and fastens it snugly on your head, smirking slightly as he catches your wide gaze peering from underneath the oversized dome. He pulls on his own helmet, slowly tugging it over his wide ears before he mounts and kick starts the bike, revving the engine.

You slide in behind him, your feet automatically finding the rests and you wrap your arms around him gently. His chest is a solid mass under your palms and you grip him with the lightest squeeze as you lean into him.

“You ready?” He asks, his low voice rumbling beneath your fingertips. You nod into his shoulder blade and he revs the engine again before pulling out into the road and merging with traffic.  Your whole body purred along with the engine as you buried your nose into his jacket, tucking your face away from the wind. He smelled just as you remembered and your hands pulled him a little tighter as he wound his way through the streets. He drove as every other NYC motorcyclist did and weaved through the traffic, taking more empty side streets and alleys before squeezing back in to blend with the main roads and ignoring the honks and squawks from the taxis and other motorists that congested the roadways.

He reaches a red light and stops, perching a foot on the ground while he wiggles his hand in his pocket for a moment. He hands you a pair of sunglasses, which you take questioningly. “For the wind.” He calls out over the rumble of the idle engine. You slip them on your face as the light turns and you were now able to stare out at the city as it passed by. You could see the sidewalks, littered with people, people walking dogs, people resting on the stoops, people bustling to go home, or work, or anywhere. You feel a sense of pride, clutching onto Adam’s coat as he drives you through the city. You recognize a few landmarks, noting that you were close to the waterfront, the Manhattan skyline peeking out from behind the passing buildings and trees. You could see the tall dark brick archways break up the sunset and you sigh in mild contentment.

It was short-lived.

Adam had brought you to Pier 2, large outdoor roller rink. Surely he has realized that you are a clumsy double left footer by now. He helps you off the motor cycle and stores the helmets.

“Have you been skating before?” He asks, his voice tentative, maybe even shy.

“Only on the ice, once?” You answer and that little lopsided smile tugs a crinkle into his face.

“This  will be fun.” He chuckles.

“For who? You know I have all the balance of a drugged baby giraffe.” You poke him gently as he offers you his arm to head inside. He tucks your hand into the inside of elbow and you are once again nearly dragged along as his long legs set a quick pace.

“I remember.” He admits. “But maybe I just want an extra opportunity to hold you.” He squeezes your hand before releasing you to open the door.

You blush, seemingly rendered speechless as he approaches the front desk. He orders tickets and skate rentals for the two of you before pulling you over to benches to swap footwear. Adam puts his skates on first and stands, his normally tall frame gaining an extra few inches. You gape at him and he chuckles.

“You’re giving the jolly green giant a run for his money in those things.” You smirk before reaching for your bright blue rental skate. Adam’s had been a neutral brown, but they both had garishly orange wheels. He catches your hand and all of a sudden you are being lifted up. Your socked feet find purchase on his skates as he hoists you higher, and you fling your arms around his neck to avoid falling over.  His hands settle at the waist of your trench and he holds you close, his long nose weaving into your hair.

“I’ve wanted to do that all week.” He mutters as his arms tighten around you. He spins in a little loop with you standing on his feet and you squeak, gripping him harder. You can feel him laugh into your hair and you wind your fingertips into the dark strands that linger around his neck. It was a moment frozen in time as both of your breathing seems to synchronize, deep and even as you nearly exist as one person. He reluctantly releases you and makes sure your feet reach solid ground before he kneels before you, grabbing your skate and holding it for you to push your foot into. He ties them and you find yourself looking at him nearly eye level, his height yet again giving him the advantage even though you were seated on a bench. He gives your skates a pat and looks at you, his brown eyes dark in the warmly lit rink and filling you with that aching feeling you’ve been trying to ignore all week. You take a deep breath, summoning your courage, and lean forward, meeting his lips in an innocent whisper of soft skin. He lets out a gasp in surprise, which is gently stolen between your lips; it was almost enough to taste him. You fight the instinct to dart your tongue out and run against his lips, pulling back instead. You flick your eyes to his face to see him staring at you intensely, his pupils blown wide and dark and his lips still open and soft. He moves to grab you but you slide away and launch off on your skates, easily propelling yourself to the rink entrance.  

“Get back here.” He growls, almost predatorily. The rink is huge, spanning down the length of the pier. It felt like you were flying over the water as you skated quickly to the other side. The setting sun dusted the bay in a hazy pink. You could see Adam zooming down the rink, his tall back slightly hunched and his coat whipping behind him as he speed skated to your location. You wait until he was a moment away before you take off again, shrieking with laughter as you pass him and hear him swear. You weave in and out of the other skaters, passing them quickly as you loop around the rink, Adam practically nipping at your heels. You make another pass, your smile flashing. It was the truth when you told Adam you have only been ice skating, but you didn’t tell him that it had been a favorite childhood pastime. It took you only a second to realize the movements were very similar and you relaxed into memorized mechanic s.

You see a streak of black that may have been Adam as you made another loop and you slow down, smiling a little as you search out over the rink for your date. You hear a rumble of skates and then a solid figure crashes into you, pulling you tight to hold you as your skates flail for a brief second. Adam seems to purr into the back of your neck by your ear as he holds you, his arms folding over around you as he waited until your skates have steadied and fallen in sync with his own.

“You think you can just kiss me and get away with it?” His breath was warm as it skimmed over your skin. He was pushing the two of you together now, his chest pressed into your back as you circled the rink slowly in tandem.

“Mmm.” You hum lightly. You turn in his arms as the two of you slow to a stop and you reach up to loop yourself around his neck as his hands settle gently at your waist. “I think so.”

He swallows hard, directing your attention to the vulnerability of the pale column of his neck. You lean forward to nuzzle the smooth expanse of skin with your nose. His hands tighten at your waist and a low vibration sets in his chest, rumbling though you and filling you with heat like a spreading fire. Your hands wind through his thick tresses, a single finger tracing around the top on one of his ears and you feel him shudder, his fingers suddenly digging in hard against your ribs. You take the moment to your advantage again and pull him to meet your lips. This time you mean it and he groans against your mouth as you press against the soft pouts of his lip, all traces of your initial shyness gone. You break the kiss to catch your breath only to find his mouth at yours again, dragging your face up to meet his again as his lips pulled against your own. His teeth caught your bottom lip and you gasp, pulling away and breaking the contact once again. His eyes are flickering shades of near black as he furrows his brow in frustration

“I think I can get away with so much more.” You murmur, a smirk playing on your lips. You suddenly swing your hips, breaking away from his grasp and start skating backwards, leaving him both frozen and burning alone at the side of the rink. His gaze tracks you as you skate away, never leaving your form as you make another circle around the rink. Your heart thunders as you approach him and you reach out, extending your hand as you move to pass him. He grabs it swiftly, intertwining his large fingers with yours. His hands are so broad; it is nearly a stretch to fit his grasp and you blush.

_I wonder if it will be a stretch to fit other parts of him._

The two of you make a few laps around the rink hand in hand, but in silence. There were still other skaters coming in and the rink was slowly filling up. The DJ changed the tunes from a soft lazy afternoon rock to a more bass heavy dance line and turned on a series of colored lights and strobes. You smile and pull Adam’s hand slightly looping him to a dance.  His movements are a bit stiffer than yours, which was understandable given his height and proclamation against gravity.

You hear some of the other skaters cheer as you spin in a circle around him.

“Drugged baby giraffe?” He questions as he loops behind you.   

“Have you met a baby giraffe? You question, skating away.

“Well, no. Can’t say that I have.” He bites his lip as he speeds to catch you, grabbing you around the waist and spinning you around. He dips you slightly as the song ends and you hear a light smattering of applause.

“I have.” You breathe a little heavy. “They are stubborn little fuckers.”

He laughs, a full chest deep chuckle, throwing his head back and crinkling all the soft lines in his face as he pulls you upright again. The two of you circle the rink a few more times, laughing and joking back and forth. He was reluctant to release you, keeping a hand in yours, on your back, your waist, or as a lingering touch as often as he could. You let him.

_He did work a little extra hard to catch you after all._

He watches as you help a little girl skate, ditching the little PVC pipe walker on wheels she was using to steady herself. You clap as the girl takes off into a confident loop and you see Adam smiling at you warmly, also clapping. You skate over to where he was watching and he eagerly pulls you into him.

“What do you say we get out of here and get something to eat?” he murmurs gently into your ear.

“Fantastic. I’m starving.” You beam at him and he skates toward the exit, still holding your hand. Breathless, you flop onto a bench and start unlacing your skates, kicking them off and wiggling your toes. Your feet find their way back into your chunky boots and Adam laces up his sneakers before taking your blue skates and his brown ones back up to the rental counter.

“Oh my God.” You hear a group of people exclaim beside you. “It’s him. That guy from Star Wars.”

“No way!”

“You’re totally right, that’s Kylo Ren!”

“Oh my God, I’m dying! Take a picture!”

“Should we get a selfie?”

“I heard he’s an ass.”

_Uh oh._

You bundle up your coat tightly and slip Adam’s glasses back on your face before walking up to him at the counter.

“Star Wars fans, 7 o’clock.” You mutter and you see him grimace.

“Let’s get out of here.” He groans, reaching for your hand.

“Just give them 2 minutes.” You nudge him gently. “For me.”

He stares at you, his face set into that frown that you had seen when you had first met him.

“Fine.” He grumbles. “Only for you.”

“Get rid of that grump face.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He smirks now and lets you lead him past the young fans. 

“Kylo!” One of them shouts before they were shushed by their peers. Adam chuckles now.

“Hey, guys.” He holds up a hand in greeting. He spends a good ten minutes taking selfies, autographing random objects, and answering questions before he cuts them off, wishing them a good night. He finds you quickly, hiding in the shadows of the sidelines and reclaims your hand as you headed back the bike.

“Sooo not an asshole.” You heard one of the youths exclaim as you left and you smile.

You were quick to buckle up your helmet and take your spot on his bike, holding him more closely than before, allowing your palms to explore the firm angles of his chest as you nuzzle against him. The sun was nearly all the way hidden in the horizon, but Brooklyn was still alive and running as the two of you speed through the darkening streets.  After a few minutes on the highway, he exits near the Bayside district, turning into the city blocks and zooming swiftly down the empty roads before he pulls over, parking his bike beside the curb. He helps you remove your helmet and takes your hand as he pulls you over to the front door.

“I hope you meant it when you said you were starving.” Adam teases, a smile tugging on corner of his crooked mouth.     

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Date's not over yet, guys! ;) Stay tuuuuuuuned. <3
> 
>  
> 
> Please comment! ^.^


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for all you patient wonderful people who are reading my fantasy in a box fic. ITS BEEN TOO LONG!!!
> 
> DATE PART TWO, Now OUT FOR DELIVERY! 

 

 

The restaurant was a cute splash of green in an otherwise unremarkable neighborhood. There was a white and green striped awning that covered the green wood paneling of the front entrance. The window displays were strung with lights and had plants filling the space, the well tended to green leaves set against the glass.

Anopli, the place was called. The door jingled with bells as Adam opened it for you and your stomach growled as the smells washed over you.  The place was warmly lit and looked like an old fashioned ice cream parlor, right down to the cherry wood bar stools that were lined up against the counter. The ice cream flavors were displayed on the mirrored surfaces behind the bar, framed by more intricately carved cherry wood. There were family photos also pinned up, showcased next to sugary snacks and a plethora of New York Yankees memorabilia. There were cases of fresh pies, cakes, and baked treats over the surface and you inhale, letting the sweet, buttery scent fill your lungs. The old fashioned ice cream bar was to your right, with mosaic tiling on the floor that led back through the narrow diner. Small, narrow booths lined the walls and you look over at Adam, who was talking with the hostess.

She flashes the two of you a smile and asks you to wait before heading to the back of the restaurant. You watch as a tray is brought out to a patron, the ordinary white plates stacked high with food. There was something covered in whipped cream and sprinkles and you lick your lips. Adam chuckles lightly as he catches you eyeballing the food.

The hostess returns and waves the two of you to follow, which Adam is quick to do. Your eyes widen in surprise as she actually leads you out the back door into a small, well kept garden. There were a few round tables with the traditional plastic chairs that you swear everyone has tucked away for those extra BBQ guests. The area was lit with string lights and paper lanterns, casting the area in a soft glow. The garden was completely empty, save for the two of you and the hostess, who was setting down menus on the table in the corner. You could hear the sounds of the city mixed with the soft music coming from the main dining room and you couldn’t help the grin that stretched over your face.

It was hands down the most romantic thing you have ever seen, despite the BBQ chairs.

Adam pulls out your chair, which you are eager to sit in and you pull up the menu. There had to be at least 5 well used laminated pages full of everything you could think of. There was even Greek and Italian options thrown in with the traditional American fare.

“Please,” Adam murmurs beside you, picking up his own menu. “Get whatever you want. My treat.”

_What was the thing that had all the sprinkles?_

The two of you flip through the menu in comfortable silence, contemplating on what to order.

“Have you been here before?” You ask suddenly.

“Yea. A while ago. A friend brought me here when I first moved to Brooklyn.” He answered, not looking up from the menu.

“Anything you recommend?”

“Any of their desserts.” He says, taking a moment to glance up at you with that almost smile of his. “But I’ve never ordered anything that I haven’t liked.” A waitress appears and shyly introduces herself before Adam snaps his menu shut. “You ready?”

“You go first.” You thumb through the pages again while Adam turns to the waitress.

“I’ll have the Philly Steak Wrap with a side of home fries, a side salad with ranch dressing, and a waffle.” You gape for a minute at his order. “Oh, and an iced tea.” The waitress writes his order with a smile and turns to you.

“Bacon cheeseburger with fries, please. And a glass of strawberry soda.” You say politely, handing her your menu. Adam looks at you quizzically with a raised brow as the waitress takes off with your order. He settles back in his chair, folding his hands over his lap and studies you, his right leg bouncing up and down on the ball of his foot.

“What? Not a burger fan? “ You ask, also settling back in your chair and crossing your arms. His face crinkles with that dimply grin and he chuffs.

“I was just expecting something with sprinkles the way you were eyeballing that kid’s dinner.”

“There’s always dessert.” You grin.

“There is, indeed.” He stares at you, his gaze intense and heated and you feel your throat go dry.

“So skating and a diner’s secret garden.” You start and he raises an eyebrow at you. “It’s been a pretty amazing date. What made you think of it?” He shrugs his broad shoulders. His body posture was still closed off and guarded and you decided to do your best to get him to loosen up. You lean forward, elbows on the table and start to rifle the sugar packets with the tip of your finger.  “Well, thank you.” You continue, undeterred. “I’ve really enjoyed myself.” You flash him a small smile and he ducks his head slightly before leaning forward to join your elbows on the table.

“It was intimidating.” He admits, his leg still bouncing slightly. “Where do I take a girl on a date when she has seen the world?” He runs his hand through his hair before giving you a sheepish smile.

“Well, consider me impressed.” You grin. “I’ve never been skating like that and I have certainly never dined in a place like this before. It’s wonderful.” You glance around, noticing that the skies have darkened and the soft illuminations from the lights and lanterns seem even more romantic. “Now there’s just my problem.” You mention lightly.

“What’s that?” He asks, his voice low and slightly wary.

You reach out and take his hand, which had been previously drumming lightly on the table. His body seems to tense under your touch, but then relaxes and he allows you to pull him slightly closer. His hand is so wide it nearly takes both of your own to hold it properly. You cradle his open hand with one of yours and trace a heart into lines of his palm with the other. You swear you almost catch him shuddering out of the corner of your eye.

“How does a girl like me impress her date, when he’s a well loved and handsome actor that is way out of her league?” The question comes out nearly as whisper. His hand closes around yours in response and you hear a low rumble from his chest, a primitive growling noise that makes you want to clench your legs together to soothe a building ache.

“You-“ He starts,  his voice deeper than before and raspy.

“Ok! We have a bacon cheeseburger and a Philly wrap!” The waitress’s voice cuts through the mood like a guillotine as she enters the garden. You immediately pull your hand free from his and move back, taking your elbows off the table. She smiles as she sets your plates and drinks down, along with some extra napkins and cutlery. “I’ll be right out with your salad and waffle.” She grins at Adam as she brushes his shoulder lightly. He draws away from the contact, but she doesn’t notice as she scampers back through the door. Your hand clenches slightly, missing his contact.

_Shitty timing._

You both sit silently as you wait for her to return, not wanting to start up another moment that would be interrupted. As predicted, she bustles back, carrying his salad and a huge waffle and condiments for your burger.

“There you are!” She grins, standing too close to Adam for your liking. “Can I get anything else for you two?” Adam runs his hand through his hair before shaking his head and you politely decline. “Alright, then! I’ll be back later to check on you.” She disappears back into the building, leaving you and Adam alone in the quiet again. He’s already made a dent in his fries and has tucked into his wrap as you add a superfluous amount of ketchup to your burger. The silence stretches, continuing as you and Adam nibble on food, your hunger usurping conversation. The burger was excellent, well made and quite large and you struggle to find a way to wrap your mouth around it without looking like a shark.

You manage to get a decent bite and you look over at Adam to see him paused over his own meal, staring at you as you chew, your cheeks somewhat stashed with food. Your eyes go wide and you hastily finish your bite and swallow.

“Excuse me.” You blush as you cover your mouth and you do your best to look dainty as all hell as you take your soda for a small sip.

Adam whuffs into his hand, his eyes twinkling as he tries not to laugh.  He fails and barks into his fist, laughing and coughing as he wheezes and tries to breathe around his food. Blood fills your face as you flush in embarrassment.

“Sorry… sorry.” He clears his throat, coughing slightly as he grins at you. “It’s just that…” His smile slowly leaves his face as he picks at his food. “My ex. She wouldn’t be caught dead with an honest bite like that.” He glances at you. “It’s refreshing.”

“I’m sorry.” You murmur.

“Don’t be.” He interrupts. He grins again and takes an equally wolfish bite of his wrap, chewing with chipmunk cheeks of his own. It was your turn to giggle. You reach back to munch on your burger and watch as he made short work of the rest of his entrée.

“What happened?” You ask softly, sipping your soda. “With your ex, I mean.” Adam pushes his empty plate and salad plate aside before drizzling syrup on his waffle.

“Short story, she cheated.” He attacked his waffle a little hard, cutting it loudly with the side of his fork. “Long story, we had been growing a part for awhile before hand, not that it was any excuse for what she did.”

You felt the air fizzle with his emotions. It was certainly still a sore subject for him and you could tell that empathy wouldn’t do much good. You nibbled on a fry as you study him, choosing your next words carefully.

“She was a fool.” You manage. “To throw away a relationship with you.” It was an honest statement. Even though you hadn’t had much time to get past the gruff exterior that was Adam Driver, he still had awakened something in you. You enjoyed his bite as much as you enjoyed getting to know the secret soft, gentle man within. He keeps his attention on his waffle, hacking and stuffing another quarter into his wide mouth.

“We were too different to start. And we were even more different at the end. She would always be correcting me on how to dress or how to eat and I conformed, but it still wasn’t enough. I was never enough.” Adam shrugs his shoulders and waves his hand before running it through his hair. “New topic.”

You could feel the tension in the air and as much as you wanted to know more about his past, you quickly change to something more light hearted.

“You gonna share a bite of that waffle?” You challenge. He raises an eyebrow and coy smile. He cuts off a decent sized chuck and dangles it across the table. You lean forward, parting your lips and his eyes darken. The waffle is sweet and chewy, fluffy and crisp and you can’t help but moan. “Oh, that’s good.”

 He chuckles as you help yourself to another bite and he reaches over to steal the rest of your burger and fries.

“So what about your exes?” He murmurs, not quite meeting your eyes. “How’s my competition looking like?”

“What competition?” You snort. “I’ve never really dated.” You quickly back track at the look of surprise on his face. “I mean, I’ve been on a few group dates here and there. I just never had the chance…”

“Oh. I see.” Adam looks away shyly, devouring the rest of your burger. The conversation stills as the two of you finish eating. He rubs his hands up and down his thighs nervously, his knee bouncing again.

_Well this is it, you fucked it up good. Now he’ll want nothing to do with you._

“I may be inexperienced.” You start, pushing away the empty waffle plate. “But I’ve loved experiencing everything with you.” He stops and glances at you. “And I don’t want to stop.” His eyes, already dark mirrors in the night lights, seem to grow even darker still.

“What do you say we get out of here then?” His voice was still, but deep and his gaze seems to burn into yours. You drop your napkin on his waffle plate in response. “Next time you will have to get your own waffle, you thief.” He teases. Your stomach flip flops a little at the mention of a next time, but you try your best to squash it.

_Focus on finishing the date you got with all stars, then see if he still wants you._

 He stands and waits for you to gather your things and adjust your coat before he heads toward the door.

“Next time I’m totally getting an orange-creamsicle milkshake.” You counter, following him back into the restaurant.

“With sprinkles.” He adds.

“And a cherry.” You finish and he chuckles. He pays the tab, his gaze harsh and glaring when you had dared to bring out your wallet, before the two of exit and head back towards his bike. You were almost used to it now, fastening the bucket helmet over your head and waiting patiently for Adam to mount the bike so you could hop on behind.

 He pauses before putting on his own helmet and reaches for you, his hands sliding over your jaw to cup your head and pull your face closer. His mouth finds yours immediately and you sigh against him, parting your lips to welcome his kiss. It was quick and bruising, stealing away both the breath from your lungs and the ground from beneath you. You lean against him for support as he releases your lips, allowing you air for only a moment before returning, softer this time. Despite the mint he had stolen from the counter, you could still detect the taste of him alone, a warm soothing suggestion of him that made you swoon a little. His thumb traces the last remnants of where you had been injured, trailing down past your lower lip. His touch was feather soft.

“I’m glad these have healed.” He murmurs. “I like kissing you.”

You could see the heat in his dark eyes as he pulls away, releasing you gently to tug over his full face helmet. He kick starts the bike again and waits for your arms to wrap around him before he takes off down the darkened Brooklyn street. It feels like no time at all, just a few brief seconds pressed against him and the warm scent of his coat ruffling your nose before he slows the bike and parks against the curb in front of the bookstore.

_You weren’t ready for the date to be over. Not even for a second._

His movements are also slow as he helps you dismount and you hand him the extra helmet. He pulls his own helmet off, tucking it under his arm. You unlock the door that takes you directly upstairs and turn to him as he stands behind you, shuffling on his feet nervously.

“You wanna come up?” You ask quietly. “Grandfather’s not home.” You flick your eyes up at him, trying to read his expression. “I’m not sure where he keeps the whiskey, but I can still offer you some kind of drink.”

Adam’s gaze is intense. Adam’s gaze is always intense, but this time it felt like he was searing you to the spot. His shoulders shrug slightly.

“Sure.” He answers, his gaze never breaking yours.

Your hands feel clammy as you open the door and head upstairs, unlocking the second door. The main landing was across from the kitchen and you flick on the lights as you enter. Adam puts his helmet on the table and the two of you stand there, the space between you seeming both too far away and too close at the same time.

You untie the sash on your coat, shrugging it off and draping it over a chair.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” You hear him mutter.

You freeze, glancing over at him. He was staring at you, his eyes hungrily taking in your form in a wave, and you remember you had ended up wearing your coat all evening, covering over the red dress.

_Oh._

Even though the fabric was smooth, your hands brush over the dress self consciously, adjusting nothing in particular as you look at him shyly. He was stepping towards you slowly, each step stalking and intentional, like a hungry wolf to his prey. His feet stop as he towers over you and he reaches out to run his hand down your curves to your hip.

“If I had known what was under that coat we would have gone somewhere much, much warmer.” He rumbles, his voice catching as he trails his fingers on your hip.

“Yea?” you tease, reaching over to unbutton his coat. His body was tense as you make your way down the row. “Where would we have gone?” You reach the last button, his coat falling open and you run your hands underneath the fabric. He had worn a soft grey sweater and you spread your fingers over his chest as you push the coat over his shoulders, where it falls to the floor. His body was still rigid, unmoving as your touch trails over him. You see him swallow hard, the muscles in his neck flexing slightly as you explore and his grip on your hip tightens.

“For one.” He growls. “I’d forget about being a gentleman and showing you home.”

You wrap your arms around his neck and he hunches slightly to accommodate you, pulling you firmly against him and running his hands up and down your side, exploring the curves of your body. He leans to press a kiss in the exposed skin where your neck slopes into your shoulders. His palm roves over your rear and he growls, pressing you into him.

“Where would we be instead?” You whisper, weaving your hands through his hair. It was thick and soft between your fingers and he groans slightly as you run it through with a tug.

“Mine.” He murmurs into your skin. “We’d be at my- I’d have you in my-“

You don’t let him finish as you raise your lips to press against his. He nearly whimpers into your mouth, clutching you tight against him as you deepen the kiss. He pulls on you, wanting you closer and you take the hint, hooking your thigh around his hip and shimmying up his tall body, locking your ankles together, similar to how you would climb the coconut trees in Indonesia. He grunts for a second as he adjusts to the sudden attack on his person, but easily supports your weight as he holds you, his grip tight under your thighs. Now you are the one towering over him, forcing him to tilt his head up to kiss you again and you lean against his shoulders as you run your hands through his hair. Your nails lightly skim against his skin and he nearly purrs beneath you, sucking your bottom lip in between his teeth and you gasp.

You became faintly aware that you were now moving as he walks the two of you over to Grandfather’s old leather couch. It squeaks in its characteristic familiar tone as he sinks down into the cushion slowly, bringing you with him to straddle him across his lap. You release your ankles to sink your knees into the couch to rest on either side of him instead, your fingers never leaving his hair. He breaks the kiss to nuzzle into your neck, leaving a trail of kisses, nipping the skin slightly with his teeth as he moves.

It became frustratingly obvious how many layers of clothes were between you to as you move against him. His hands are off on an exploration, running over the planes of your back and cupping your curves making you moan into his neck. The ache was building between your legs again and you couldn’t help but grind against him, grinning slightly as you felt the evidence of his arousal. You arch against him, bringing him eye level with your chest. Adam groans, his hands moving from your hips to the curve of your breasts.

“These are fucking magnificent.” He rasps, squeezing them gently. Your hands mimic his, exploring the broad planes of his chest for a moment before you begin impatiently tugging on the fabric of his sweater. He pulls away for a moment to help you ease the garment over his head, leaving him in a thin, snug black tee. Your mouth instantly waters at the sight of his broad shoulders, still rounded and built from activity, stretching the fabric for whatever the thread count was worth.

_More, more, more._

You immediately fasten your lips to his neck like a lamprey and he hisses, grinding his hips up into yours as you leave a decent love mark on his neck.

“What are we, 17?” He groans, fastening his lips to your neck as well and sucking hard. His long arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer still. He was hungry, desperate to keep as much of your body connected to his as possible. The two of you move together, bodies desperate for friction. He gasps, releasing your neck and you felt the blood bloom under the tender surface. “I may as well be 17, with how close you have me to finishing in my pants.” He groans, throwing his head back and his hands land on your hips, holding them still. “It’s been awhile. Give me a moment.” He murmurs, his breathing stuttered and uneven.

You lean forward, nuzzling in his chest. His arms come around you, and you take a moment to just enjoy being in his arms.

_Ok- moment over. Now time to lose some pants._

You break his embrace to stand and you quickly shimmy out of your jeans, leaving your dress to land mid thigh on your bare legs. He watches you, eyes dark with interest as you climb back into his lap, straddling him again and his hands moved to rove over the newly exposed bare skin of your legs. 

“Jesus, you’re soft.” He breathes. He leans up to kiss you again, his tongue slipping inside and you can’t help the groan that escapes your throat. His hands graze the bare skin of your upper thighs, pushing the dress up slightly and you can’t help but move against him again. It felt even better now that your jeans were on the floor, with only your panties blocking you from rubbing against his clothed erection. He hisses slightly, breaking the kiss and rolling his head back, your name coming out of his throat in a moan.

“You’re killing me.” He groans, pressing a kiss into the top of your head. “I’m trying to not rush you.”

“I want more.” You mumble into his neck and he hums in response. “I want it all.”

He tenses slightly beneath you, his hand coming to weave into your hair as he gently pushes you back. He spots the love bite that he left on your neck and he thumbs it softly, his eyes flickering with heat and a smirk pulling on the side of his lips.

_Mark me. Make me yours._

“Impatient little thing, aren’t you?” He teases. “How long has it been for you?” He winds your hair around his pointer finger and you can’t stop the flush that spreads across your face. You duck your face, trying to hide from the question that hung in the air.

“It hasn’t.” You mumble. He tenses beneath you and your heart sinks.

“You haven’t-“ He coughs and you shake your head.

“I never met anyone that I wanted to go that far with.” Your face felt like fire now and you were itching to run away with mortification.

“Fuck.” He mumbles. His hands have found your legs again and his thumb rubs a small circle into the skin by your knee. “Why me?” He asks suddenly, straightening a little. He reaches out to tuck his finger under your chin and he tilts your gaze towards his own. His eyes were wide, open and curious, the dim light of the evening lamp making the light brown flecks seem extra warm.

“There’s just something I felt- I feel.” Your voice is almost a whisper. “A connection. It just feels natural, feels right. And when you kiss me… touch me-” You swallow hard and can’t help looking away from the intensity of his gaze.

“Don’t be afraid. I feel it too.” Your name is softly murmured and you turn back. “Tell me.” He pleads. “Tell me what I do to you.”

“It’s fire.” You finish. “It burns and aches and I want more.”

His eyes are nearly black now as he gazes at you. “I want to give you everything.” His voice is raspy and hushed, as if it was nearly escaping his control. “But I’m certainly not going to let your first experience be on this old leather couch in your Grandfather’s living room”

“I have a small bedroom?” You suggest, not wanting to give up. He shakes his head and your stomach flops in disappointment.

“Hey.” He pulls your face towards his, meeting your mouth in a searing kiss. It was slow, but deep and you groan as he pulls away, leaning his forehead against yours. “I want you. I want you in my bed. I want to take my time with you. I want to do this right.” He kisses you gently again. “Please.”

 “Shall I get my coat?” You tease and his face breaks into that wide grin you realize you have come to love.

The night passes with ease. You find a comfortable way to snuggle against him with your legs draped over his lap, his hands continuously finding contact with your skin. It was comfortable, soothing even and you controlled the tingles of heat that flushed every time his fingers trailed against you. You had found some of his favorite topics to discuss and loved the way he would come alive when he spoke about something he was passionate about. In return, you continued to entrance him with some of your favorite stories of your world travels. He seemed fascinated by the things you have done and was engaged on finding out as much as possible about your adventures. It was endearing, intimate on its own terms and the time the two of you spent together, even if you weren’t panting hotly against his skin, was your favorite thing about your first date. 

It was nearly one in the morning when the first yawn escapes your mouth and he looks at you, a small smile tugging on the side of his mouth.

“It’s late.” He states the obvious. “I should probably get going.”

“You sure you don’t want to stay?” You ask, yawning again.

_Goddammit._

“I don’t want to leave you, but I’d rather not be here when Grandfather returns. I want him to like me.” He chuckles.

“Oh, no worries there.” You tease. “You’re like, his favorite person in the world right now. He even hung up your picture in the shop.”

“Oh no.” Adam laughs, his ears and cheeks blushing red. “I’ll have to try to come by sometime and see it.”

You go to stand and he follows you up, his hands lingering on your body as you walk him back towards the door. He grabs his helmet and leans down to kiss you. It was tender, yet hungry at the same time and you fought the urge to drag him back to your room despite his requests.

“Bye.” You murmur, breaking the kiss. He hesitates, as if he was fighting the same battle to haul you off, but then clears his head with a shake of his mane.

“Bye.” He repeats, and leaves, the door closing with an echoed slam that seemed to reverberate through the empty apartment and mirrored the lonely echo that you realize you feel in your heart at his absence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unf. Can i just have my own adam now, please?? 
> 
>  


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